


Chaos on Christmas

by xxDustNight88



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21712363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxDustNight88/pseuds/xxDustNight88
Summary: All John wanted was a quiet Christmas with Sherlock. Instead, he gets a larger than life case and chaos, but in the end, it all works out for the best.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26
Collections: Festive Friends Collection 2019





	Chaos on Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starrnobella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrnobella/gifts).



> Another seasonal one-shot for the Festive Friends Collection! This one is for the fantastic starrnobella who always encourages my obsession of Johnlock. Here's a fun little one-shot for all the Johnlock lovers! Happy reading! 
> 
> Beta love goes to GaeilgeRua for allowing me to use her Grammarly subscription. Any other mistakes you find are my own and I'll deal with them whenever. Much love, xxDustNight!
> 
> Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to PBS & BBC America. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this creation.

It felt like John had only just gone to sleep when he was being roused by Sherlock forcefully shaking his shoulder. "Oi, Sherlock. What are you doing? Come back to bed. It's far too early." They'd returned home quite late last night after solving a three-week case.

"Lestrade called. There have been several bomb threats this morning. He needs my help, and I need you to come with me," Sherlock explained as he shrugged into his coat. Obviously, he had been up for a while… If he even slept at all.

John grumbled as he tried to snuggle back under the covers. "And it's snowing. I don't want to go out into this mess. Let Lestrade figure his own case out for once. Besides, have you already forgotten what today is?"

Sherlock lifted his wrist and pushed back the sleeve of his trademark coat. "It's nine o'clock in the morning on December twenty-fifth. Merry Christmas," he said to John. "Now get up. The game is on!"

John groaned as Sherlock swooped from the room, leaving him alone in the bed. Why did this always have to happen? They were supposed to have a quiet holiday, but damn Lestrade had to go and need their help yet again. Before Sherlock could come barging back into their room, John threw back the covers and got up the prepare for the tedious day ahead.

* * *

Three hours later, and they were no closer to solving this case. There'd been at least ten bomb threats throughout London, but thankfully none had come to fruition. The city was in chaos with the news, and that wasn't even the worst of it. On top of the threats, a new gang of thugs was wandering around terrorizing everyone. They were stealing gifts from charities and unsuspecting families trying to get to holiday parties.

While Sherlock questioned a store owner about the latest threat, John stood by the door, watching the snow continue to blanket the city. Apparently, not even the snow could keep the criminals at bay today. Merry Christmas, indeed. With a sigh, John watched as Sherlock finished his questioning and rejoined him.

"I suspect that you didn't get much information out of him?" he asked, watching as Sherlock scribbled in his little notebook.

"Yet another dead end, it would seem," the taller man grumbled. "I suspect that you are hungry."

"Hungry?" John said with exasperation. "I'm exhausted. We just finished a case last night, and now we're right back out here. It's Christmas, Sherlock."

"What if one of the bomb threats is actually real?" Sherlock said, meeting his eye in a challenge. "Think of all the innocent lives that could be lost."

"Sherlock," John practically whined. "You really are incorrigible, you know that, right?"

"That's why you love me," Sherlock quipped, dropping a kiss to John's cheek before tucking away his notebook. He then clasped his hand and tugged him out into the snow. "Now, come along, John. I have an idea on how to catch our mysterious criminal and those bloody thugs at the same time."

John gave him a glare but allowed himself to be led away from the shop. If Sherlock had a plan, then maybe they could get home and have a quiet supper before Christmas was entirely over after all. The city was blanketed in snow and criminals were wreaking havoc, but at least he was spending time with Sherlock.

* * *

Groaning for the umpteenth time that day, John stumbled into 221B with snow-covered shoes and a stiff leg. His feet ached, and his eyes were tired, but he and Sherlock had managed to put an end to the bomb threats and get the thugs behind bars for good. Exhaustion didn't even begin to cover how he felt, but he'd somehow survived the day.

Collapsing into his chair, John didn't even bother to take off his jacket. Sherlock, on the other hand, took the time to hang both his scarf and coat up on the hooks before joining John by the fire. He gave John a penetrating stare, saying nothing and everything in the way only Sherlock could.

"What, Sherlock?" John groused, glaring at his lover.

"You're upset," Sherlock noted, tilting his head.

"Not so much upset as utterly exhausted," John pointed out. "It's nearly midnight, and we spent the entire holiday marching back and forth across the city saving lives. I wanted to spend the day with you here."

Sherlock nodded and then moved to stand again. "It's nearly midnight, but I have an idea. Wait here."

John didn't have time to reply before Sherlock had grabbed his jacket and hurried back downstairs. The door opened and closed, leaving John alone in the flat. He had no idea what Sherlock was up to, but he hoped it wouldn't take long.

* * *

John was nearly asleep in his chair by the fire when Sherlock was dropping a bag of take-out into his lap. "What's all this?" he supported as he came back to reality.

"Dinner," Sherlock said simply, resuming his spot in the chair across from John. "We still have a few minutes left of Christmas, and I owe you dinner. I bought your favourite from the Chinese place down the street."

Smiling at the thoughtfulness of his lover, John opened the bag and handed a few containers over to Sherlock. This was actually quite perfect; the two of them sitting by the fire eating their favourite food as the holiday came to a close. "Thank you," John said as he dug into the meal. "Today didn't go as I thought it would, but at least we have each other."

"John," Sherlock said as he used his chopsticks to grab some noodles. "Today was perfect because we spent it together. Now, enjoy your dinner before we go to bed. I'm not quite done with you yet."

John met Sherlock's eyes and saw the desire reflected there. A chill of anticipation went down his spine, and he knew that the dinner could wait. Setting aside his meal, John took Sherlock's hands and led him back to their bedroom. Together they spent the last few minutes of Christmas and the hours afterwards wrapped in one another's embrace. It didn't matter that the day had been chaotic. They had each other, and that was what was most important during the holidays.

**Author's Note:**

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